


Amazing Grace

by The_Floof



Series: The Jersey Reclamation Project [2]
Category: Vampire: The Masquerade
Genre: Gen, Songfic, The Lasombra is a drama queen as you would expect, The Tzimisce has a brief cameo but that's about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:47:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26909128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Floof/pseuds/The_Floof
Summary: A Lasombra sings of his woes at a karaoke bar, much to the cringe of everyone in the audience.(This is a silly side-story, not necessary to understand the rest of the series.)
Series: The Jersey Reclamation Project [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1963423





	Amazing Grace

The man sat on a wooden stool, dark-finished, covered in pale, jagged stripes. Impatient hands, sickly-pale, tapped at the edges of his seat. Palms pressed hard just next to his black slack-covered thighs. The shadows at his feet rippled, calm and waiting--

The pipe organ, played through the speaker's filter, forced a swathe of shadow to vacate the stage, as if heavenly light shone on the man in his three-piece suit. The cross he wore hung on top of the thrice-ruffled jabot, soon clutched for dear life by the waif of a man.

“ _Amazing Grace... How sweet your sound...”_

He sang with the voice of a long-practiced choir boy, and with each syllable, his body grew limp, succumbing to the light.

“ _That saved a wretch like me...”_

Less and less shadow surrounded his body, until it all but disappeared. His left hand gently pressed against his chest, whilst he glanced lovingly toward the sky.

“ _I once was lost... but now, I'm found.”_

His arms lifted, softly raised to chest height on either side of his body. His hands crossed, lovingly, over his dead heart.

“ _Was blind... But now... I see.”_

His arms raised to the sky, to the heavens above, toward the spotlight upon his body on the stage. The music hung then. The shadows shook throughout the venue, a warning sign of what was to come... Then, his voice hit harsh on the notes. Shadows rushed toward his wrists, tore them from 'grace', kept them shackled at his sides.

“ _Amazing Grace! How_ _ **sour**_ _your sound! That_ _ **damned**_ _a wretch like me...”_

Though the damned struggled against his binds, it was all he could do to cry out injustice. Hopelessness sent him limp, just as he was before...

“ _I once... was lost... and still am not found.”_

The shadows swirled around his body, like sharks on the hunt.

“ _Had sight...”_

He lifted his head toward the audience.

“ _Now I... can't see.”_

Hopeless brown eyes could only watch as darkness engulfed them, turning windows to the soul to windows into the _abyss_.

“ _Had sight, now I can't see...”_

The stage engulfed in pure darkness, like a curtain closing on a play. When it settled, the singer was gone. Only the audience, at their candlelit tables, remained, to murmur about the performance to each other.

At a table far in the back, a porcelain-pale, freckled punk whispered to their shadow-covered plus-one, “This is why we don't let Matteo hold Elysium at karaoke bars.”


End file.
